


He's All That

by gehddit



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28726731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gehddit/pseuds/gehddit
Summary: A play on the classic/tired makeover trope-- Morgan's not happy that Reid has volunteered to be the bait for their unsub and Reid isn't too pleased Morgan doesn't trust he can pull it off.  What they can agree on, however, is that Reid looks ridiculous.OR- the makeover trope needs a makeover, love stories are cuter when they're into you before you lose the ponytail
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Comments: 8
Kudos: 139





	1. Chapter 1

“Listen guys, he’s feeling really self-conscious about this ok? So can everyone be nice?” JJ looks first at Rossi who shrugs his agreement and then very pointedly at Morgan who tries looking wounded at the implied accusation.  “Derek Morgan I swear–” Morgan laughs, one hand up in the air, the other drawing an X over his heart. “And you won’t even have to hope to die,” JJ tells him, “because I will kill you.” Which coming from her may not be a literal threat, but it certainly isn’t an empty one. 

“Makin’ me feel like a monster.” 

“If the cloven hoof fits.” Prentiss grins at him like he’s getting just what he deserves. From behind the door they hear the sharp  _ ber ber ber beeeerrr _ that is clearly Garcia, announcing Reid’s entrance.

“Garcia!” Reid’s desperate plea is pretty clear too, and the quiet “Sorry, couldn’t resist.” that follows.

The door opens on Garcia’s reserved face, having adopted a strangely somber expression in her efforts to keep her excitement at bay. Reid is barely visible, staying low and as close to her back as he can, using her as a human shield. Reaching a hand back, Garcia gropes around until she finds his arm and gently pulls him out from behind her. 

Morgan feels his jaw drop and knows he’s going to get in trouble, but he can’t stop it. Just as he can’t stop the shake of his shoulders or the sharp pull of his smile. Reid’s in a tight purple V-neck sweater and tighter jeans; nothing like his typical bulky sweater vest and loose fitting khakis– you can actually see the shape of him for one, and his  _ hair. _

“Well look who walked right off the runway and into my life?” Morgan says through a grin, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head.

“ _ Morgan _ –” 

“No I know, I know.” He waves off JJ’s protests. “But if I don’t say it, how will he know how  _ pretty _ he looks?”

“Yeah, yeah get it over with.” Reid grumbles, grabbing at the hem of his sweater and looking over it with dismay until Garcia quickly slaps his hands away, everything about her expression telling Reid if he stretches it out she’ll kill him. Morgan didn’t blame her, the thing was probably cashmere. Looks soft enough anyway. Morgan pushes off the desk and grabs at Reid’s arm, tucking him into his side.

“So when am I taking Agent Next Top Model for his joy ride?”

“I’m assuming that’s a topical reference, so if it’s supposed to mean something to me, your tactics are flawed.” Reid deadpans, miserable.

“He’s got you there.” Prentiss is leaning back in her chair, looking like she should have a bucket of popcorn on her lap.

“And yet you still get what I’m sayin’ don’t you?” Morgan says it through a grin, giving Reid a squeeze. Looking resignedly at his shoes, Reid sighs.

“I do.” 

“Atta boy.” He laughs, patting Reid’s stomach, and getting an eyeful of JJ's murderous look. “I can’t help it! I try so hard to be good, but he just makes me want to be so bad.”

“Be bad on your own time.” They all turn to see Hotch at the door, taking in the scene. Morgan slides his arm from Reid's neck, his head ducking almost imperceptibly, not at the admonishment, but for everything else Hotch might have seen, that Hotch might have  _ read _ . “Are we ready?” Hotch’s question may have been for everyone, but he was looking at Morgan. No one likes that they’re using Reid as bait. But this is Hotch’s team, his responsibility, and Morgan has a job to do. Morgan straightens, shoulders back tight;  _ won’t let you down _ . Because he won’t. Not tonight. “You remember your backstories?” Now he’s looking back and forth between them, lingering a moment on Reid, but Morgan starts off, giving Reid a moment to gather himself.

“My name is Jaylen Dickson, I’m an agent with D.C. Talent Industries and I represent Garrett,” he gestures to Reid, “my newest modeling recruit.” With Morgan finished, the room turns to Reid, who grits his teeth, red creeping over his cheeks.

“My name is Garrett Skyler, I’ve recently signed on with D.C. Talent Agencies after Jaylen Dickson recruited me when we met at a club downtown and we started dating quickly after.” Making very intentional eye contact with each of them throughout this, Reid lands on Hotch, who nods his approval.

“And our go-word?” 

“Vodka tonic.” Morgan and Reid say in unison, Morgan smirking at the thumbs up Garcia is giving Reid on the other side of the room.

“Good,” Hotch grabs the file off the table, tucking it at his side, “looks like we’re moving out. Prentiss, you’re with me at the back entrance, Rossi, JJ take the side doors. Remember, the unsub had no problem getting past bouncers with an unconscious man under his arm, so be on your guard.” 


	2. Chapter 2

The club was crowded by the time they got there, Morgan’s hand on the small of Reid’s back, following him through the sea of people. Clocking the exits, Morgan notes the number of guys leaning on each other, stumbling over themselves, and grimaces at how easy it would be to drag someone out of here, how typical it would look. There’s an empty booth in the corner– Morgan slides his hand around Ried’s waist, pulling him back so he can fit his mouth to Reid’s ear,

“See that booth?” He practically has to shout, pointing to it with his other hand and presses Reid in a little closer as people start bumping into them now that they’re standing still. “Reid, you hearin’ me?” Morgan asks again when Reid doesn’t answer, he’s gone totally rigid and Morgan looks around, trying to see if Reid’s spotted something, but then he jerks his head down in a nod and starts pushing his way to the table. 

The unsub couldn’t have chosen a more perfect venue for picking up victims; too loud, too crowded, and– Morgan laments– plenty of exits. The corner does give them the best vantage point they’re likely to find without standing out, so Morgan gets comfortable, legs splayed, doing his best to look like he’s putting on a show for Reid, knows it’s working when Reid executes a barely concealed eyeroll.

“You know, I think you’re supposed to be charmed by me.” Morgan grins, doing his best not to laugh at the way Reid keeps correcting his posture, trying to appear more relaxed.

“Yeah, me and everyone else,” Reid scoffs, but then adopts a small smirk, and Morgan’s not sure how much of it’s real or a part of the act, “should we take a bet on how many numbers you’ll get tonight?” 

“M _e?_ How about _you_?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He says with such disdain that Morgan has to bite his tongue to hold back what he wants to say, reminding himself their entire team is listening to this conversation. “Look around,” Reid’s back in character, “everyone’s staring at you.”

“Staring at _us_.” Morgan corrects. Reid lets out a derisive snort, but it only eggs Morgan on. “Guess we must look pretty good together.” He leers, draping an arm over the back of the booth, loving how hard Reid’s trying not to glare at him, rolling a stray straw wrapper between his fingers that Morgan knew, if the circumstances were any different, Reid would have flicked it at him by now. Then Reid’s focus sharpens over Morgan’s shoulder, and without the slightest change in his expression, Morgan asks, “This our guy?”

Reid nods, so Morgan leans over the table, taking hold Reid’s wrist in his best imitation of calmly possessive, “Want to get us some drinks?” All of the humor had evaporated from him, his hand on Reid’s wrist feeling weighty and out of place with an audience. Again Reid nods, trying his best to look nonchalant as he extracts himself from their booth.

As Reid is passing him, Morgan stands up, snagging Reid by a belt loop and pulling him in close, “He watching?” He asks low into Reid’s ear, and Reid leans into it– the only answer Morgan needs. Angling them so that no matter where the unsub is sitting at the bar he’ll catch it, Morgan tucks a few twenties into Reid’s pants before releasing his hold. When Morgan returns to the booth, he takes Reid’s seat, giving him a clearer view, grateful this kind of watchfulness fits so neatly into his character. It’s made a bit more difficult when Reid is stopped _three times_ before he gets to the bar by guys wanting his number and Morgan has to look furious instead of snickering at how overwhelmed Reid is to be on the receiving end of that kind of attention.

The unsub moves in almost immediately, Reid’s elbows barely hitting the bar before he’s got an arm around him. Playing the part couldn’t have been easier for Reid in that moment, pulling away from the unsub and pointing back at Morgan, who was now much more comfortable portraying the possessive type– getting up from the table like he's ready to fight. Morgan can see it work from across the room, see the unsub’s posture change, the pent up rage pulling his muscles tight, and Morgan hates that he’s this far away. The unsub smiles good naturedly at Reid though, waving to Morgan to indicate he doesn’t mean any trouble.

“Name’s Matt.” Morgan hears the unsub’s voice crack through the mic.

“Garrett.” Reid answers with a small wave.

“And your boyfriend?”

“That’s Jaylen.” For as much as Reid is trying to act the part, Morgan can see he’s having a hard time with it, and is debating going over there when he says, “He’s my manager, well I guess my boyfriend _and_ my manager, you get it.” 

“Must be tough, him being in charge of you all the time.” Looking back at Morgan, Matt leans a little closer to Reid.

“I don’t know,” Reid shrugs, shifting away from him, and Morgan is ready for the go word, all he’s listening for, “he’s always telling me I’d be a mess without him.” The bartender puts their drinks down in front of Reid. “You know how guys can be, says he’s the only one that can keep me in line.” Grabbing the drinks, he gives Matt a labored smile and makes his way quickly back to the table, sliding right in under Morgan’s arm and nesteling in at his side. Morgan brings his arm down from the back of the booth to lay over Reid’s shoulders. It would have been impossible to tell from any further away, especially with how dim the lights are, but Morgan can see Reid’s jaw locked together, teeth clenched tight, and wished there was a way to ask if he’s alright that everyone else wouldn’t hear. 

“That was perfect man, that line has him strung tight.” It’s a poor attempt at distraction, but it was true; the look on the unsubs face as Reid turned away from him made Morgan want to pull his gun, which meant they had him exactly where they needed him. Reid looks intently up at Morgan,

“Put your hand on my neck.”

“What?” Morgan knows he’s failing to conceal his shock, can only hope that Matt didn’t catch it.

“His power play, he always goes for the neck,” Reid puts a hesitant hand on Morgan’s chest, peering up at him in what Morgan guesses is his best impression of a loving couple. “if he sees you do it we’ll have him locked in.” He starts to move his hand back and forth, stilted and awkward, and Morgan takes a hold of his wrist.

“No man, we don’t need to– we’ve got him alright? Just give it a minute–”

“Morgan–”

“ _No._ Okay? No, I’m not– I’m not doin’ that.” Because there’s no way he’s putting on a show like that– touching Reid like that– for this monster. And he has to look away then, from the confusion he sees in Reid’s eyes, but more importantly from the far sharper scrutiny lying just underneath. 

From the corner of his eye, he sees Reid open his mouth like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it. Instead, Reid gently slides his hand free from Morgan’s grip, and shifts out from the booth, leaning into Morgan’s ear, “He just moved closer to our table, now or never.” With that, he pushes off of Morgan’s shoulder, slipping through the packed dance floor, towards the bathroom for the final part of their plan. Morgan has to force himself to stay in his seat, knowing from the get go that this was going to be the hardest part of the night. The one he had fought hardest against; a fight that almost had him sidelined.

_“By himself!? Absolutely not!” Morgan couldn’t believe Hotch was even suggesting it._

_“He’ll be wired, we’ll hear everything that’s happening.” Hotch kept his tone level, looking at Morgan like he would the family of a victim._

_“This is_ reckless, _there are a million other ways we could do this–”_

 _“_ Morgan.” _It wasn’t any louder than he’d been, but sharper, the way Hotch could command any room he’s in. “May I speak to you outside for a moment?” He followed Hotch out of the briefing room, into a private corner of the precinct. “I understand why this might be hard for you–”_

 _“It’s_ not.” _Morgan interrupted, barely able to meet Hotch’s steady eye. “I’m fine, okay? Really, I’m fine.”_

 _“But you know it would be okay if you weren’t.” With this hanging in the air between them, they stood there, staring at each other, Morgan having no idea what to say. After a moment, Hotch nodded, a kind of understanding that only made it worse, made Morgan feel almost like he wanted to_ hide _as much as fight. Hotch jerked his head towards the briefing room, letting Morgan trail behind him, giving Morgan a beat._

_“You know I am actually a pretty competent agent.” Reid said as they reentered the room, his voice small, but firm from his seat across the table; arms crossed, looking bitterly at the floor._

_“I’m not saying–” Morgan started, backtracking, but Reid cut him off._

_“It_ is! _” And Reid was looking right at him then. “I know it is because Prentiss, Hotch, JJ– they’ve all done something like this with no complaint from you, so I’m not sure what else you_ could _be saying.”_

_“Reid…” But Morgan had nothing to say for himself, no words to explain why this was such a problem for him. The silence stretched until Hotch called an end to it, bringing them all back with the next step of their plan._

And so Morgan now sits, pretending to play idly with his phone while keeping as close a watch as possible on the path to the bathrooms with his peripherals. Less than two minutes pass by before he hears the crackling static of Reid’s voice in his ear piece.

“Hey, Jack right?” His voice is calm, but Morgan is out of his seat, shoving through the crowd.

“It’s _Matt._ ” This guy’s pissed, Reid’s tactic working perfectly, but it only makes Morgan more anxious to reach the door. “Your boyfriend really shouldn’t leave you alone, not in a place like this. If you were mine I’d never leave you alone. I would take such good care of you.”

“Listen you seem like a nice enough guy, but I have someone to take care of me.” 

“I’ll show you,” the wire picks up his rage, crystal clear, “I’ll show you what I can do.” Morgan hears the metallic click of a gun being cocked and he vaults over the last bar stool between him and the bathroom door, pressing his ear to it and waiting for Reid’s go ahead.

“Woah, wait,” Reid is no longer challenging, but submissive, letting the unsub feel in control, “please don’t shoot me, I’ll do anything you want.”

“You will, I know you will, but don’t worry,” Matt’s voice is getting louder now, closer to Reid, “you’ll be happier this way, I promise.” There’s a jumbled sound of fabric shifting over the mic, a shout of pain–

“ _Vodka tonic_.” Reid gasps the signal and Morgan’s boot is on the door; it gives, but doesn’t break and he kicks again, hearing the shouts of their team coming in the building behind him. It takes him two tries and the door flies inward to reveal the unsub cuffed on the floor, his gun in Reid’s hands. Morgan drops back against the doorframe, practically shaking with relief.

“Got him.” Morgan says into his shirt collar. The music has stopped behind them, someone likely having turned it off when they saw the uniforms flooding in. Hauling Matt onto his feet, Morgan looks over at Reid, who nods; _I’m okay._

“Good work Reid.” Hotch made it over and is standing in the doorway, JJ, Rossi and Prentiss behind him, keeping everybody back. “We’ll take him back to the station for questioning. Why don’t you two file your reports.” The unsub wasn’t going to talk to them anyway, not when they’ve caused him this kind of humiliation, but Morgan sees Hotch’s order for the break that it is and gives him a grateful nod.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s a quiet car ride back to the office, so quiet that Morgan’s ears are ringing with leftover noise from the club. In the passenger seat, Reid stares out the window, chin resting on his knees, looking exhausted.

“Hey pretty boy,” he slaps the back of his hand against Reid’s knee, “you kicked some ass tonight.”

Reid turns his head to look at him, cheek resting on his knee, “Almost like a real agent.”

“Now hold up–” 

“It’s okay.” Reid sits up now, stretching his feet out on the floor. “I get it, really.”

“You don’t.”

“I do. I haven’t been in the field as much as you guys, I’m not as, you know,” he waves his hand up and down Morgan’s torso, “as you.”

“What? No, Reid that has nothing to do with it. And to be frank, not many people are as,” he waves his own hand around, “as me. That’s not the point.”

“Then what is it? I know you don’t think I’m bad at this, you never would have let me be alone with him, let alone wait for me to call you in. What had you so worried?” 

“It’s not– I can’t–” Morgan clenches the steering wheel, “I don’t know how to explain it, alright? And it doesn’t matter anyway; we went through with the plan and you got him, that’s all that matters.”

“Okay.” Reid says softly, but it’s too placating to bring Morgan any real relief. Flipping on the radio, Morgan nods at the dial, and Reid perks up, surprised. He fiddles with it until the soft overlap of wind and string instruments fills the car, looking at Morgan for a reaction, but Morgan just takes a long, slow breath– for once content to let it play.

The bullpen is empty when they get there, both of them grateful to have the space to themselves. Collapsing into their chairs, they start up their computers, wishing they could do this tomorrow, but knowing it’s best to get the information down when it’s fresh.

“Not gonna change?” Morgan asks, surprised it wasn’t the first thing he did when they got back.

“I don’t know, kinda figured everybody likes these clothes better.”

“Ah no, screw that man.” Reid looks surprised, so Morgan continues. “I can’t speak for  _ everybody _ , but I like your real clothes. These are nice and all, but they don’t look like you.”

“You don’t think?” Reid looks down at them, leaning back to get a better view.

“If you felt comfortable in them that’d be one thing, but you clearly don’t. Stick to what you like, you look good in your clothes.” 

There’s a beat of silence and Reid says, “Alright,” looking at Morgan a bit like he would a particularly difficult crossword, “okay then I’m gonna go change.”

“Go for it man, you’ve earned it.”

A few minutes later, Reid returns in his dark blue sweater vest and khakis, and Morgan cheers him into the room, “There he is, the pretty boy we all know and love!” Morgan grins at the flush creeping up Reid’s neck. “And he’s here to stay, right?”

“Guess so.” Reid answers, ducking his hide to hide a smile. But Morgan thought maybe he wanted a little more than that.

“You killed it tonight man. I know you were freaked out, but you–” Reid’s frown cuts him off.

“I wasn’t freaked out.” 

“Reid, you were baiting a serial killer, it’s okay if you were freaked out.”

“And I’m not disagreeing with that, it’s just that I wasn’t.” There’s not a trace of defensiveness, just a tired Reid providing an explanation to a lesser intellect and Morgan thinks that’s what convinces him more than anything.

“Alright,” Morgan puts his hands up in surrender, “I guess you just seemed… extra tense.” He finishes, barely managing to steer clear of condescending, but was surprised to see Reid raise his eyebrows, understanding dawning in his expression.

“Oh. No I– yeah maybe I was a bit tense.” Reid conceded, like that summed everything up perfectly. Morgan sits back in his chair, arms crossed.

“But not because of the case?”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s been a long night.” But Reid had to know that wouldn’t work..

“Come on man, out with it; what was going on tonight?” And he knows he’s made a mistake when Reid looks dead at him.

“Why didn’t you want me playing the bait?”

“That has nothin’ to do with–”

“ _ Morgan.” _ Reid stops him in his tracks, the  _ who are you kidding _ unspoken, but heard loud and clear, and Morgan’s out of his chair, grabbing his coat.

“Come on,” Snagging Reid’s coat off his desk, Morgan holds it up for him, “I’m taking you home, we can finish the report in the morning.” Reid gets up out of his chair and slides his arms into the open sleeves, the whole time looking at Morgan over his shoulder, trying to see what’s going through his head.

The ride to Reid’s house is completely silent, no radio, just Reid staring out the window and Morgan’s hands tight on the wheel. Reid doesn’t seem at all taken aback when Morgan gets out of the car once they’ve stopped at Reid’s place, or when Morgan walks him up the four flights of stairs to his apartment, opening the door to let Morgan inside.

“I don’t really have coffee or anything,” Reid says once they’re in his kitchen, having a hard time looking Morgan in the eye, “maybe tea?” He turns to open a cabinet and Morgan takes a light hold of his arm, spinning him back around.

“I didn’t want you to go. At no point was I okay with you being there, and it’s got nothing to do with how good of an agent you are– you are  _ good _ at what you do– but bad things happen to the best of us, and if something like that happened to you–” he takes a beat, getting his head around it, trying not to work himself up, “I don’t know who I’d be after that.” Reid steps closer, reaching out without quite touching, eyes lit with understanding. 

“I wasn’t freaked out– or,” he shrugs a shoulder, “maybe I was, but it wasn’t the case, it was–” Reid’s eyes dart across the table like it was a word bank, like it’d have the right answer, “I hated  _ acting _ like we were there together; how completely ridiculous it felt, like… out of my reach. It was embarrassing really, how badly I wanted it to be real, but it’s been that way for me for so long, and being there with you like that, I– I didn’t know where to put my hands.” 

That last bit wrenches through Morgan, has him grabbing at Reid, wrapping his arms around him tight, having to force himself to be more gentle. Reid lets out a small huff of surprise, but quickly knots his hands in the back of Morgan’s shirt, pulling like he could somehow bring them closer.

They stay wrapped together like that, feeling the rise and fall of the other’s steady breathing, the enduring heartbeat, the warmth. Morgan hasn’t felt this relaxed in a long time, like someone’s released a latch along his spine, all of his muscles unwinding; he can feel it’s the same for Reid too. 

Having Reid this close though, knowing what he now knows, another breed of tension starts building in his gut. The warmth becoming heat, churning through the center of him and spilling into his limbs, climbing up his throat. Morgan tilts his head, nuzzling his face into Reid’s hair, moving his lips over it, breathing in this closeness.

“ _ Hnh.” _ Reid lets out a whimper so quiet Morgan wouldn’t have heard it if Reid wasn’t so close, and Morgan groans, spreading his hands wide along Reid’s back, running them firmly over the flat plane of it. and Reid arches into him, gasping now. 

Pulling back just enough that he can see Reid’s face, Morgan smiles at what he finds; Reid’s flushed all the way down his neck, panting, his eyes wide open, looking at Morgan like he has no idea what’s happening.

“This okay?” He skates his fingertips over Reid’s temple, down his cheek to his neck where his thoughts turn unwittingly to what Reid said at the club– the unsub. Reid sees it as soon as it flashes into his head.

“I’m sorry…”Reid covers Morgan’s hand with his own, “that I asked you to do this–” but Morgan shakes his head, bumps his nose against Reid’s cheek.

“Don’t be. You were right, I just–” he takes a moment, “I can’t have this be for anyone else. Especially not him, not when we hadn’t–” Reid tilts up just enough to press a light kiss to Morgan’s lips and Morgan deepens it immediately, eyebrows drawn together against the ache of how long he’s waited to be allowed to have this. 

He licks over Reid’s lower lip, fighting off his disbelief when they part for him, when Reid slips his hands around the back of his neck, tugging him closer. Running his hands down Reid’s sides, Morgan slips them under Reid’s shirt, going up just far enough that he can press his thumbs into the bare skin of Reid’s hips. Reid leans into it, pressing them together, making little gasping sounds that make Morgan want to shove him up against the wall. 

He takes a wide step back, careful Reid won’t stumble without his support, putting about three feet of distance between them. Reid blinks, eyes flitting around his new found space until they settle on Morgan, confused.

“I should probably head home.” The way Reid’s eyes drop to the floor crumbles Morgan’s resolve in an instant, “Hey come on,” and he’s already moving back in, sliding his hand around Reid’s waist and dragging him closer by the small of his back, rolling his forehead over Reid’s temple, “be fair to me pretty boy, I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“You know, you don’t have to be so careful with me.”

“I  _ do _ know!” Morgan laughs, and Reid looks up, surprised. “You kicked that guys ass today man, my money’s on you every time.” Reid’s rolling his eyes, and Morgan lets it go, thinks this is just one of those things he’s going to have to prove over time. “No, it’s not you I’m worried about.” And this really has Reid’s attention, going still like he’s afraid he’ll spook him, and as defensive as that makes Morgan want to be, he has to admit it’s not completely unfair, especially since he’s not even sure he can say it.

Detangling himself from Morgan’s arms, Reid takes Morgan’s hand, brow furrowed, determined, “Don’t... take this the wrong way.” Then he turns, dragging Morgan along behind him.

“What are you–”

“Hush.” Reid admonishes, opening the door to his bedroom. It has to be after two in the morning and with Reid bypassing the lights, it leaves them in total darkness; Reid maneuvering them through the piles of books and papers that littered the floor. He tugs on Morgan’s arm, bringing him level until Morgan’s knees hit the edge of what must be Reid’s mattress. When Morgan continues to stand there, staring at Reid in the dark, Reid just huffs a sigh, yanking the blanket back and crawling underneath to the other side.

Once settled, he pats the empty space beside him, gazing at Morgan expectantly. Letting out a small breath of laughter, Morgan concedes, kicking off his shoes and laying down just in the perimeter of Reid’s body heat. From the corner of his eye, Morgan sees Reid reach over slowly, giving Morgan time to tell him no. Instead Morgan closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as Reid’s warm hand lands softly on his chest, smoothing over the hard surface.

“I’m not really someone who gets attached.” Morgan starts, quiet to match the dark. “I mean you know that, but… I keep things light, and that’s for a reason. This job– people can’t rely on me, the job is always gonna come first. And the thing is, that’s a problem for most people. But with you– you’re a part of all of that.” His eyes are open now, and he turns his head, searching Reid’s face, almost desperately, to see if any of what he said had landed there.

Lacing his fingers into the collar of Morgan’s shirt, Reid drags himself closer, lining himself up along Morgan’s side. Morgan’s barely breathing now, eyes locked on Reid’s, unable to look away, to even blink. He’s never seen Reid look like this before, so completely– sure. Tilting his head up just enough, Reid brushes his lips over Morgan’s, the briefest touch, gone and back again. Over and over he leans in just to pull away, connects and disappears, until Morgan starts following him back with his mouth. Reid tries to be quicker, to stay out of Morgan’s reach, but he only has time to let out a squawk of surprise before Morgan’s rolling over him, laughing, pressing their lips together. 

It’s good. It’s so  _ good _ and Morgan moans at the rightness of it, pressing Reid into the pillow, giving Reid all of his weight, all of his everything. Reid arches into it, accepting it, wanting more. Moving down to Reid’s neck, Morgan licks over his throat, skimming his teeth over Reid’s jaw.

“ _ Hnnn _ .” Reid’s nails are sinking into Morgan’s back, spared only by the thin cotton of his shirt. But Morgan wants to feel them, feel all of it. Sitting back on his knees, he grabs the hem of his shirt, looking down at Reid,

“This okay?” Which Reid answers with a frantic nod, tugging at his own shirt, pulling it clumsily over his head, and when Morgan leans back down– skins to skin– they both take a slow, deep breath.

“I want this,” it’s whisper quiet, like Reid’s trying to float it to him, “so if it’s scary for you– I mean– it’s both of us. It’s scary, you know,  _ because _ it’s both of us. But I think– we can just want it anyway right?”

It’s the hope that really gets to Morgan. Reid doesn’t have occasion to be hopeful too often and if Morgan’s going to be brave for anything…

Opening his hands wide on Reid’s hips, he slides them up Reid’s sides, thumbs sweeping broad over his rib cage, fingers under his back, small smile at the catch of Reid’s breath. He digs his arms between Reid and the mattress, squeezes them together,

“ _ Hah” _ Reid had himself anchored on Morgan’s shoulder blades, but now wraps his arms as tight around Morgan as they’ll go.

“Then let’s have this,” Morgan nuzzles his face into Reid’s neck, taking in the line of contact from their ankles to his mouth on Reid’s throat, “don’t want anything else.” Reid sighs– maybe relief, maybe contentment– shifting his head just enough to lay a firm kiss to Morgan’s temple.

“You have to tell Hotch though.” And Morgan barks out a laugh, burying his head into Reid’s chest to smother the echo of it in their quiet space, shaking them both with the force of it. Lifting his head just enough to see the bottom of Reid’s chin, Morgan protests,

“Thought you were supposed to be so brave now?”

“Brave, not stupid.” Reid can’t keep his straight face, and Morgan grins.

“The perils of dating a genius.”

“Prodigy, technically.”

“Whatever you want baby.”


End file.
